The Return of Johnny Stitches
by Inudaughter Returns
Summary: A repentant Johnny Stitches is looking for a saintly boy for a Valentine's day chocolate commercial. He thinks he has his boy in Arnold.


**This one might be a little too over the top, but it throws back a little to the episode where Helga is It-Girl and also the episode where Stinky is the Yahoo soda kid. Please let me know your opinion on this story. Thanks.**

In an office with white vinyl blinds, and whose walls were lined by blazers framed like pieces of art, a telephone rang. A large hand reached out for the receiver. It had rung an annoying three times already, but the man whose office it was picked up to answer with a pleasant, "Hello?". He was both grateful and gracious. These were the days of the new, repentant, Johnny. Johnny Stitches had resigned himself to never using the word "shocker" again. He had also resigned himself to never wearing tight black leather pants again. (He wore white wool/polyester these days.) That was his old image- the old career. After his fall from grace in the fashion world (largely in part due to Helga G. Pataki) he been slowly but surely reinventing himself.

"Yes, yes, yes sir! We can certainly staff that commercial for you!" he said to whomever was at the other end of the phone line. "The models of my agency are top notch stuff! Only the best, you'll see! What was that?" the man said listening to the voice inside the phone. There was the tiny buzz of someone speaking via telephone into Johnny's ear. His eyes widened.

"A little boy to play in your commercial? Well I don't usually work with children, not since… Oh, never mind! Yes, yes, Johnny Stitches will do this job but it will come with higher rates!" Johnny Stitches hung up the telephone. His once cheerful mood had soured a bit. One of his few remaining female models walked in the door. Camille was as much his secretary as a model. Camille still wore her black hair short, but her cow spot miniskirt had gotten less miniature. It was a good deal longer at knee length but side-slit. Camille's scarf wrap was gone, too, to be replaced by a choker- a necklace with only enough strap to clip snugly round her neck without any dangling so that it looked more like the bell and buckle studded collar of a dairy calf.

It was anyone's guess if Camille had been a dairy farmer in a past life, but irregardless, she was very loyal to Johnny Stitches. Despite all the chances and his downfalls, she remained by him still. She sat on a stool near the window to wait for her longtime companion to speak.

"Camille!" Johnny Stitches complained at last. He tapped his fingertips together in a nervous gesture. Then he picked up a sheet of paper from his desk.

"The modeling agency is going to have to hire a young boy for a candy bar commercial. Oh, don't give me that look! I know we don't deal with children, especially since… errr! That mess! But the customer insists they want an angelic boy. Something about portraying an angel."

"But we don't have anyone to play that role," Camille protested. "What would you do?" She gave Johnny Stitches a look that said, "It'll never happen." But Johnny Stitches was adamant that it was.

"We'll go down to the plaza to do some last minute role casting! Here, run down to the store and buy me every box of Divinity Gala brand chocolate you can get! Don't worry, I know what I'm doing!" Johnny Stitches said with a bit of hesitation in himself. He handed a wad of cash off to Camille. Then he tucked his hands behind his head as if he knew everything would be alright.

But Johnny Stitches couldn't predict fate. He couldn't predict that on the same day he and Camille were setting up an advertisement booth near the downtown shopping plazas, Arnold's Grandpa would bring him there on an errand. It began with Arnold's Grandpa stomping round in a funk.

"Constarn it!" the man said wrinkling his nose in disgust. "Can't find my suspenders!" Arnold whirled his head around, temporarily distracted from his Saturday morning cartoons. As his grandfather's pants dropped, fortunately in the other direction so that he was spared being mooned, he failed to notice that Abner ran behind the couch with his Grandpa's suspenders in his jaw.

"Ahh, that's terrible!" Arnold said trying to be compassionate. But he couldn't help himself. He couldn't help waving his hand to shoo his Grandpa away from the television screen. After all, as long as he stood there, he'd miss his Saturday morning cartoon show! Arnold craned his head, trying to get a view of the television screen. Not his Grandpa's briefs.

"Arnold!" His Grandpa said as if coming to a very desperate but important conclusion. "Get ready, because this afternoon, we're going to go shopping! Maybe we'll hook you up with a pair of suspenders, too!" Arnold's Grandpa declared. He hooked both thumbs into his pant loops to keep his trousers up. Arnold made a face.

"I really don't need any suspenders, thanks!" the boy choked out. The dread of being forced to wear suspenders was distracting him from his pleasant cartoons. Sticking his feet out from the couch, then pressing his hands firmly against the couch cushions, Arnold hopped forcefully down onto the floor. Wide-eyed, the boy stared up at his grandpa. Cartoon day or not, there were things more to be dreaded than going without television.

But like it or not, when afternoon came, Grandpa Phil had corralled Arnold and gotten him into the Packard. Arnold crossed his arms and silently scowled as best as he could. There was no way he WANTED a pair of suspenders. Not in a million years. Despite his Grandfather going on about his favorite pairs and the famous places where he had worn them, Arnold was not convinced. Bored of his Grandpa's wild stories, Arnold rolled down the car window and stuck his head out of it. The top tufts of his hair roiled in the breeze. After a few moments his spiky hair looked even wilder than usual. Then the Packard rolled to a squeaky stop.

Arnold was smiling again by the time he and his Grandpa Phil took the elevator to the men's clothing department section. His Grandpa quickly found what he was looking for. But Arnold's eyes shifted between affection for his Grandpa and fear when Grandpa Phil found a set of little red suspenders.

"Ooooh! How about these Shortman? These might suit you!" Grandpa Phil declared. He dangled the red suspenders in front of Arnold's nose. But the boy looked at them like they were a noose. Nose wrinkled, Arnold waved a hand out in front of him.

"No thanks, Grandpa!" Arnold said demonstrating with his hands to show the length of his shirt compared to his legs. "I like my shirt tails!"

"Mmm, if you're really sure, Shortman!" Grandpa Phil said. Arnold gave a little huff of relief. His well-natured grin returned. Arnold was pleasant and helpful. He carried their shopping bags from the department store as his Grandpa and himself left through the beeping automatic doors. There was a broad, tile-paved courtyard between the big department stores. There were even steps and pretty ornamental trees.

"Hm, I wonder what in the heck is going on over there?" Grandpa Phil said. He rubbed his chin. Ahead of Arnold and himself, one woman was filming with a camera. A number of other people were staffing some mysterious event. Beyond the crowd of curious-onlookers like himself, Arnold saw that a young red-haired woman in a sprightly suit was handing out something from a basket at the table. He could not tell what that something was from a distance, but Arnold turned his head to read a sign saying, "free chocolate with audition."

"Oooh, free chocolate!" Arnold's grandpa said slapping his forehead. "Every little boy's dream come true! Go for it Shortman!"

"Okay!" Arnold said. He smiled at his Grandpa, handed over the shopping bags, then hurried forward to get in line. At the end of it, a well-dressed man- Johnny Stitches- and a fashionably dressed model- Camille sat on folding chairs to the side. At seeing Arnold, Johnny Stitches' eyes grew wide. He lept up onto his feet and let them carry him to Arnold to shake the boy's hand.

"Hello, young man!" said Johnny Stitches grasping Arnold's hand with both of his and leveraging it up and down. "Would you like to try a chocolate bar? Free product! All you have to do is try out for my talent agency! Are you up for the challenge?"

"Well, I dunno!" said Arnold prepared to back away. "I just thought it was a free sample or something," the boy mumbled.

"It is!" Johnny Stitches said holding up a large candy bar in white and silvery foil. "All you have to do is state your name and smile into the camera!"

"Well," Arnold said at ill ease. He stared into the enormous camera lens that was being focused in on him by a studious camerawoman. "I'm Arnold!"

"Yes you are! What a good little boy!" Johnny Stitches beamed. "So here's the candy bar as promised!" The man didn't stop to reflect that his patronizing tone might annoy Arnold.  
Instead be was transfixed on what he saw ahead of him. Arnold had returned to his grandpa to share his candybar. After Arnold had snapped it in half, the two munched on it and laughed at some shared joke. Johnny Stitches lifted his hands up to make a box like a photo frame as he observed it. Then he dropped his hands to jog forward.

"Eh, little boy?!" He hailed Arnold with his good pointer finger up in the air, as if to say "one moment, please."

"Arnold," the boy repeated his name for the stranger. He blinked up at Johnny Stitches with a little frown. He scratched his chin then tipped his head sideways. "Now that I think about it, you look a little familiar," the boy perceived.

"That's right, that's right!" Johnny Stitches said shaking both of Arnold's hands again with delight. "Johnny Stitches, the owner of the best fashion model talent agency on this coastline! So what do you say? Would you like to be a television star?"

"I don't really know about that," said Arnold leaning back a step. "I'm not a big celebrity or anything!" the boy stated with humbleness.

"Nonsense!" Johnny Stitches pleaded in his most convincing way. "It's a fashion model shoot! All you have to do stand there, smile, and eat a chocolate bar! Simplicity itself! What do you say, kid?" Johnny Stitches said. He held up a thick contract attached to a clipboard. Arnold took the clipboard into this hands to stare at it. His Grandpa Phil peered over his shoulder, then snatched the clipboard.

"Oooh, oooh! Sign up, Arnold! Lots of free stuff! Plus if it leads to other jobs you might get a sack of money! It's only for one commercial, right?" said Grandpa Phil squinting at the fine print.

"Yes, that's right," Johnny Stitches said rather sourly. "So will you sign?"

"Well..." Arnold mumbled reluctantly.

"Oh, come on Arnold!" said his Grandpa smiling. "It'll be fun! But oh...when you get it can I have the free paddleball?"

"Sure!" Arnold said with a slight lop-sided grin. He scribbled his name on the paper.

Arnold's brief stint in a commercial might not have made much a stir in Hillwood. But the day came for Arnold's first meeting with Johnny Stitches. Due to a lack of attention span, the boy was not as prepared as he could be.

"Arnold, don't forget you have that meeting with that Mr. Johnny Stitches fella!" Grandpa Phil said, catching Arnold prepared to walk out the front door. Arnold stopped on the stoop, then glanced down at the list in his hand. Uh-oh!

"Going to the grocery store, Arnold?" Mr. Kokoshka said to the frowning boy. Arnold held up the shopping list for Mr. Kokoshka to see.

"Yeah! I was supposed to go down to the Corner Store to pick up some groceries for dinner! Only now… what do I do?" Arnold pondered by scratching the back of his neck. But Mr. Kokoshka pointed down the street aways.

"Say, Arnold! Isn't that your sweetheart over there?" the man suggested.

"Oh yeah!" said Arnold as Helga approached. "Hi, Helga!" the boy said giving the girl a nervous wave. Mr. Kokoshka gave Arnold a nudge of the elbow and a wink. Arnold winced, then rubbed the elbow jab away.

"Say, Helga!" the boy said in the most convincing fake voice he could manage. "Do you think you could do a favor for me? 'Cause I've got this appointment to go to!" Arnold pleaded. Helga blinked at the boy in confusion for a moment. Then she folded her arms to speak mildly.

"Arnold? What are you talking about? Spit it out!"

"Well, I've got this shopping list! I promised Grandma I'd pick up groceries to make supper with, but I'm afraid I might be late to my appointment. Will you go for me? Please?" Arnold said smiling wide. Arnold handed Helga a sheet of paper, which she took out of curiosity. Helga glanced down at the list then tucked it behind her folded arms.

"Tell me, why should I go shopping for you?" Helga pouted.

"Oh, come Helga!" Arnold pleaded. "You could do it to be nice! Plus, remember Trash Can Day? You were the one kid to make it back to my room without getting your head stuffed in a trash can, remember?" Helga paused to remember the flashback. It went something like this.

"Oooh! Arnold's not here?! Well I might as well make the best of it and snoop around! What do we have here? A whole bucket full of candies?! Well, ol' Football-Head won't miss a few of them! Munch, munch, munch!" In the here and now, Helga grit her teeth.

"When I got back to take my shower," Arnold said beneath hooded eyelids. He tipped his head. "My whole room was filled with taffy and caramel candy wrappers!"

"Hey! Circumstantial evidence! You can't prove anything!" Helga protested, jabbing a finger in the air.

"Oh, come on Helga!" Arnold pleaded more openly this time. "Could you do this favor for me? We're friends, right?"

"Oh, all right!" Helga said, yielding. "I'll buy the groceries so you can end the guilt trip! But you've got to pony up the cash!"

"Here!" Arnold said handing Helga a pocketful of money as he smiled. "Thanks Helga!"

"Sure thing. Pal," Helga said lifting her eyebrows high as she pretended to roll her eyes. With a smile, Arnold ran back into his house to get ready for his appointment. Helga watched the boy go with devoted concentration. She stood on his sidewalk for a few moments after the door had closed. Just what was the boy up to? Helga didn't know. Arnold didn't mention it either, but a week later, Helga showed up at the boy's house with a baseball mitt and her face shield in hand.

"Hey, Arnoldo!" Helga said with a friendly grin. "We're all going to play baseball this afternoon? Do you want to…"

"Shoot, I can't!" Arnold said rolling his eyes up as he grimaced. "Another appointment. Plus I was supposed to do the dishes today! Say, Helga, could you do my chores for me?"

"Whaaaa?" Helga stuttered. "I've got a game in a few hours!"

"Oh, I'm sure they won't take that long! Plus I'll give you this really cool paddleball!" Arnold said digging a purple one up from someplace. "Please?"

"I can't believe I'm doing this!" Helga said a few minutes later up to her arms in soap suds as Abner cavorted around her ankles. Grandma Gertie wandered up to Helga holding a platter.

"Cookie, Eleanor?" Grandma Pookie asked with a smile. Helga's frown grew less severe. Helga was a bit more wary when she arrived at Arnold's house next week. She rang the doorbell, ready to be brisk and to the point in speech.

"Hey, Arnoldo! Nandine and Rhonda are participating in a double dutch jump-rope competition. Do you wanna go and watch?"

"Oh, nah! I can't!" lamented Arnold. "Only I remembered I was supposed to scoop Abner's litter box today! Do you wanna help?" Arnold said holding up the scoop.

"Woah, woah! Nah-ah!" said Helga waving the offending litter scoop away. "I think I'll mosey along and cheer Rhonda and Nadine on at their little competition!" Helga jerked a thumb behind her to indicate her direction of intended escape.

"Ah, that's too bad!" said Arnold rolling his eyes. "Well, I'll be able to play baseball with you tomorrow! I promise!"

"Hm. You promise?"

"Pinky swear!" said Arnold lifting up his crooked finger for a moment. Helga nodded on the sudden, uncomfortably mushy deal.

"Yup! Well, I'll see ya around, Arnoldo!" Helga stated as she walked away. But when Arnold's front door swung shut, her manner of motion turned to sneaking. She lurked behind the red-brick corner of the alley.

"Hum! Something's definitely up with ol' Football-Noggin!" Helga said sinking behind the corner again and plastering herself against it to think. "But what?!" Her eyes blinked as she heard noise in the backyard. Bolting toward Arnold's backyard, Helga spotted Grandpa Phil opening the garage door and parking the Packard in the driveway. Her eyes bulged. Arnold was wearing the most ridiculous costume she had ever seen. Helga leapt out of her hiding place to intercept Arnold on his way to the car.

"What the heck?! What in the name of criminy are you wearing, Arnoldo?!" Helga sputtered out as she gesticulated her hands wildly. Arnold gave Helga a flat stare.

"It's part of my costume. I'm supposed to be angel for a commercial we're filming."

"A commercial?" Helga asked. Her tone of voice had suddenly dropped cold. She lifted her hand up to wave.

"Well, goodbye, Football-Head! Good luck!" Helga said so kindly it was suspicious. But Arnold didn't suspect a thing.

"Thanks!" the boy said with a smile although he was a little annoyed Helga had called him Football-Head again. Helga had turned away to walk down the street. But she hadn't actually gone anywhere. When Arnold climbed into the Packard, she dove into the back seat through the rear open door. Arnold's Grandpa closed the Packard's doors without spotting her hiding in the back.

"We're off, Shortman!" Grandpa Phil said with a smile. The two "men" of the house drove all the way to the same studios Stinky Peterson used to go to. Arnold's grandpa parked the car and the two walked past a security guard at his booth. Helga tumbled out the door of the car to follow, but the security guard gave her a mean lear.

"Dang it all!" Helga said. She crouched behind a dumpster and took out her locket. She lay a hand across her anguished brow.

"If I don't act fast, people will come to savor my Football-Head's ravishingly, unshapely, distinguished features which currently only I adore! He'll go talk shows, then tear-jerking action films opposite incredible, sultry ladies, and then my lovely and only, wholesome beloved will be drawn out of my grasp! He might even leave Hillwood! I can see it now, Helga, old girl!" Helga spread out her hand and swept it against the invisible wallpaper of the future. She imagined.

Arnold was sitting on a floating pool toy shaped like a giraffe in a small pool on a yacht. A cup of iced lemonade was in his hand. He wore black angled shades to blot out the sun. The phone rang and a private waiter waded into the pool (despite being up over his head in water) to hand the telephone to Arnold. The boy held it up to his ear.

"Hello?" Helga's imagined Arnold said into the phone. He listened to a small voice for a moment, examining his manicured nails. He frowned at his caller, then lifted his one free hand over his head in outrage.

"Play baseball? Don't you see I don't have time for Little People! Goodbye!" Arnold hung up the phone in a huff. From all around Arnold, Lila, Ruth, and Gloria, all in bikinis winked at Arnold.

"ARRRGGGHHHH!" Helga sputtered as she ferociously tugged her hair. She let it go with a snap, and her hair rebounded to either side of her head. Helga plastered herself against a wall.

"Think, Helga, think!" she muttered eyeing the open door. "I've got to stop Arnold from becoming a big success! How can I get in?!"

Helga's first attempt to get in didn't go well. Musicians opened the instrument case she was in and the security guard tossed her out on her butt. After looking dazed for a moment, Helga shook her head to clear it.

"Okay! So I need another plan! But what?!" Helga watched a woman set up a little sign down the road which read "Auditions, today!" She waited for a gaggle of tall teenagers to rush the security guard, then made over that way with high hopes. Soon Helga made her way into the studios. The crowd she was threaded with was multi-aged. Helga tapped her fingers together to scheme.

"Great! All I have to do now is land a part and then I'll be a big TV star like him! Perfect! Nothing can go wrong with my plan! Now, which one of these should I audition for?" Helga asked herself. She stuck her fingertip in her mouth to think.

Helga decided to try out for all of them. Which was a good thing. Her first audition didn't go so well. As soon as she got up on stage, the director quirked an annoyed eyebrow at her, then said, "Young lady, how old are you? This commercial is for expensive jewelry!" Helga forced a grin across her face. A nervous laugh escaped her lips.

"Heh, heh! What does it look like? I'm fourteen!"

"Hm," said the director with an unbelieving scowl. "And where are your credentials? Do you have your agent's referral letter?"

"Uh hold on just a second! I must have left it in the bathroom!" Helga muttered, still wearing her nervous grin. In a zip, she rushed over to the women's bathroom. An actress was just washing up.

"Hey, aren't you an actress for that show, Yo Arnest?" Helga said sizing up the girl much taller herself.

"Yeah?!" the girl said wondering why Helga was asking. A few minute later, Helga rushed out of the bathroom with a slightly soggy piece of paper.

"Here ya go!" Helga said slapping the paper into the director's hand. He rolled his eyes.

"Unbelievable! Well, roll'em!" the director said. The camera focused on Helga.

"Now, you are on a promenade with your heartthrob in the downtown twilight. A necklace of shimmering radiance catches your eye! So you turn to him and say?" The director beseeched. He waited for Helga's response.

"Uh," Helga said fishing her eyes around. "Hey, Chubby-Hubby! Buy me that necklace for me, will ya? I need some more bling!" She pointed.

"Cut!" the director yelled in a disapproving voice.

Helga's next audition didn't go much better. A plump woman with red hair and a floral-spotted skirt loungued on a chair. "Now when you go to pick up the product of very expensive lavender and orange scent, what do you say?" she nudged.

"Soap! It smells better than you!" Helga declared with certainty. "What?" she asked as everyone frowned at her.

"Cut!" the director yelled. She was moved on again.

Things were looking very poorly for poor Helga. What else could she audition for? She fretted. But just then, she heard someone yelling from behind some bushes. She poked her head around.

"No, no, no!" the director said very upset with his actor. It was Stinky's old director from Sneeosh. "It's 'devilishly delightful cupcakes'! How many times do we have to go over this?!" He palmed his face in his hand before he spotted Helga.

"Say aren't you the former It-Girl?"

"Who me? Yeah!" Helga said coming out of the bush to point at herself. She grinned for real this time. Maybe this could work?

On the set where Arnold was working, Johnny Stitches was practically prancing on his tiptoes with joy. He had dressed up Arnold as a little angel boy, complete with gold halo and wings. With his hair combed a little, he look the part. "Perfect, perfect!" Johnny Stitches sang as he clapped his hands in delight. "Oh you look heavenly, little boy! So angelic! So sweet! So uncorruptible and pure! Now, give us that big smile of yours! Yes! It's perfect! Sanctimonious!"

"Hm," their director said. "You, boy. Look at us and smile! Now savor the chocolate bar like it's the first time you've ever eaten it! Yes! Cut and wrap! That's it folks!" Johnny Stitches danced in place. He even hopped up and down once.

"Yes! You're brilliant! Brilliant!" the man said before calming. "What did I tell you, Camille? Sure, I had my doubts at first. But from this moment forward I shall forment my new brand image- that of the saintly young man! It'll be right back on top of the whole fashion world!" Johnny Stitches clenched his fists together as if he could grip victory within them.

Meanwhile, at the edge of the set, Arnold had wandered away to stare up at some scenery. He was somewhat startled when he found a red women's scarf wrapped around his torso, holding him like a whip. Helga was at the other end of it.

"Why, hello, Arnoldo!" Helga said pressing her nose up close. "Found ya!"

"Uh, Helga?" Arnold asked sweating. "What are you wearing?"

"A costume for the commercial I'm in! I'm a devilish cupcake!"

"A devil?" Arnold tried to repeat. Helga firmed her hand against her waist, annoyed.

"No, a cupcake!" With a sly grin, she walked her fingertips up Arnold's chest up to his chin. Arnold's mouth dropped open in a loopy grin. He forgot to try to get himself out of Helga's scarf binds entirely.

"What's going on! What's this!" Johnny Stitches said lifting hands up with outrage. "Arnold, do you know this girl?!" he said in his accented way.

"Well, yeah!" the boy muttered, partly muffled within the scarf wrap.

"Oh, hey!" Helga greeted her old co-worker. "It's super-she-cow! How are you doing Camille?"

"Bollocks! Well, forget this!" Johnny Stitches said shredding up a blank contract before he stalked away. He turned only his heel only for a moment to say to Arnold, "That's the very last time I'm working with you, kid!" Silent, Camille turned to follow after Johnny Stitches.

"Hm, sorry about that Arnoldo!" Helga said as Johnny Stitches left in a big huff. "I guess… that's the end of your big acting career! What can you do?" Helga had apologized yet she did not seem too repentant. She looked cheerful instead.

"It's alright," Arnold uttered as he freed himself of Helga's silk scarf at last. "I just wanted the one candy bar so I was going along with it. I wasn't trying to make a career out of it or anything."

"Is that so?" Helga said. She straightened her back up with relief. "Um can I get a ride back?" she asked swishing her eyes mysteriously. Arnold stared at her, the trail end of her scarf still in his hands.

"How did you get here?" he pondered. Helga shrugged, saying nothing.

Things seemed be back to normal already. Tomorrow came, and Helga met Arnold on the front steps of his stoop. The dreamy-eyed boy had his baseball bat for the game. Gerald had joined his side to stroll side by side down the street, with Helga tailing them. It seemed nothing would stand in the way of a fine afternoon between friends. But then, Helga's cellphone rang.

"Hello?" she said stopping to listen to the speaker. "Come down to the studio now for a second commercial? Well, I guess, maybe…" Helga blinked as Arnold caught Helga's attention and shook his head no.

"I'm sorry, but I've already made an appointment with someone else!" Helga declared. "Try another day. Bye!"

"Thanks!" Arnold declared. "It's only fair. You did promise to play baseball with me today, after all."

"I did, didn't I?" Helga said, struggling to remember. "Ehm well! I didn't want to get back into the old, boring, famous lifestyle anyway!"

"Great!" Arnold said with a smile. He carried his baseball bat on his shoulder as he headed towards Gerald Field. "I need to work off those sweets!" Helga jogged to catch up. The end.


End file.
